Pleasant Surprises
by Reverberating Winds
Summary: Sequel to A Broken Silence. Not needed for this fic. Las Noches is paradise at the moment. Everyone's happy, Aizen is gone, and Ulquiorra is a very lax ruler. But, there are some visitors that arrive, shaking things up. Will end up friends or foes? Crack!
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Not So Welcome Visitors

_Rever here-- thanks for checking out Pleasant Surprises. It is the sequel to A Broken Silence. Although it is not imperative to have read A Broken Silence, it is recommended for understanding parts of this. No worries-- you'll be able to figure out what's going on. Please enjoy and review. _

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Mornings were ungodly, so cruel, so evil in the opinion of Ulquiorra Schiffer. He hated the sun, the nauseous, hot feeling as he bobbed in and out of consciousness, and just the idea of having to face another day in what was the desolate Hueco Mundo as its 'King'. Sure, he had the title, but still. All he did was walk around (and wake up early), yell at people, and sit in his throne while others (Noitora) groveled at his feet and some (Grimmjow) fed his ambrosial, delectable foods that he was starting to get sick of.

Well, at least Aizen and his slaves were gone.

At least he had Orihime by his side. That was certainly a plus, no matter how you looked at it.

Ulquiorra banged his alarm clock with his fist, smashing it into pieces. He felt around his bedside table blindly, searching for his cell phone. He groaned minimally and sat up jerkily, resting his head on his knees.

"Oh, you're awake." Orihime said groggily, yawning. She sat up next to him, and rubbed her eyes.

"I'd rather not be. It's seven in the morning."

"Ulquiorra," she said teasingly, nudging him. "it's not that early. Szayel wakes up at four or five."

"When and if he sleeps." Ulquiorra grumbled. "This is Szayel we're talking about."

"Ah…true." Orihime swung her legs over the side of the bed and hopped off, pulling a robe over her shoulders. She pinned her long hair up and sighed contentedly while Ulquiorra trudged to his closet to go put on some clothing.

"Mayuri? I think you should come take a look at this…" Akon said in concern, poking his head into Mayuri's office.

Mayuri Kurotsuchi, captain of the twelfth division of the Gotei Thirteen, looked up from his atom bomb, uninterested. He had better things to do.

"What is it?" Mayuri questioned irritably.

"Aizen's reiatsu kind of died…same with Tousen and fox-fuckface. Uhh, I mean Gin. And there was a major explosion in the reiatsu of that guy, the one with huge green eyes. And it continues to grow." Akon said, frowning. He held up a chart for Mayuri to see. Mayuri's keen yellow eyes scanned it, and then his eyes widened twice their size.

"Oh shit!" he shrieked, standing up. "Aizen died!"

"What the—" Akon took a step back.

"Oh my God! Get it to Shuuhei and Matsumoto! They're got to put it in the newspaper! Oh my God!" Mayuri grinned. "Yes…this is what I have been waiting for…" he sobered while Akon sprinted back to make copies of the proof. "But…who killed him?"

"This is major blasphemy. Like, I'm not even kidding." Soi Fon said in disgust, throwing the newspaper on her desk in disgust. "Aizen can't be dead. Neither can Ichimaru or that blind guy." No one at the Shinigami women's club meeting said anything as they passed ht news around, eyes wide and curious. However, they believed the evidence. It was perfectly legitimate.

"Hold up!" Yoruichi said suddenly. "What if Mayuri purposely made this chart to throw us all off What if he's with Aizen?"

"Don't be stupid!" Matsumoto shrieked, dabbing her eyes with the edge of her robe. "Gin is dead!" and she proceeded to soak the table in her tears while Nanao patted her awkwardly. Byakuya, who was 'supervising' the meeting stared into the distance while his little sister joined Matsumoto in their crying. His eyes narrowed and he hummed pensively.

"Ladies, this makes sense. " He said coolly. "Kurosaki obviously didn't do it—"

"Don't—say—his –name!" Rukia screamed hysterically. Hinamori suddenly got up from her chair and joined them, yowling about Aizen and how much she loved him.

"What could this mean?" Byakuya muttered. His dismissed himself from the meeting—too much estrogen, ugh.

…

…

The news spread like wildfire across Seireitei. Within five minutes, everybody in that perfect little bubble knew about the news of the fallen captain. Most rejoiced, others didn't know what to think, and a select few (women…and Kira) were busy getting drunk and mourning. Of course, those that actually had intelligence and initiative were already thinking of things to do regarding the situation. The captains were all in a meeting, proposing ideas in hushed voices. It was quite surprising indeed—Mayuri was positive that Aizen and his comrades were dead, as in, never coming back. After hours of arguing, a verdict was announced—Sousuke Aizen, Gin Ichimaru, and Kaname Tousen were dead.

Shortly after, the captains held a party. And shortly after that, Zaraki came up with a brilliant idea.

"I say we pay them Hueco Mundo mofos a visit. You know, to give 'em a piece of our minds and stuff." He said, shrugging. "Plus, I've never fought an Arrancar before—"

"Stop lying." Byakuya murmured, frowning.

"Seriously, we should." Ukitake agreed, nodding fervently.

And it was decided. The captains—and anyone else who wanted to come on this vacation—were leaving in two hours. Well, too bad old Yamamoto was chilling out in Hawaii at the time. And, well, who would want to disturb him?

Ulquiorra swung his long, lean legs over the side of the stone throne, wincing as the cold went right through his hakama. He wriggled around, attempting to make himself comfortable. Ulquiorra sighed, and folded his arms, staring at the dark ceiling. He heard Szayel walk in, but ignored him. Szayel was probably going to pester him about safe sex, seeing that he and Orihime were technically married. Sort of. There wasn't a priest in Hueco Mundo, so Ulquiorra was reluctant to make a move on her, but even so Szayel gave him a weird look every time he saw him. Every single time.

"Just so you know, she's not seventeen yet. And you are _barely_ seventeen." Szayel said, frowning.

"I have no intention of having sex with her." Ulquiorra said listlessly. For now, anyway. Obviously procreation was the answer! He wondered what mini Arrancar would look like. He had only seen Nel and few others hanging around. They were…cute, to say the least.

"I don't believe that, but whatever." Szayel said stonily. He sighed and waved a hand, indicating a change of subject. "By the way, your wife—"

"Szayel, don't even go there."

"—Your girlfriend was looking for you." Szayel said testily. He glared at Ulquiorra and gave an exaggerated, irritated sigh. "I don't know why, she just was. Also, we have visitors…" Szayel trailed off and ran a hand through his hair nervously. Ulquiorra just stared at him for the longest time, before he went to go search for his girlfriend, who was probably planting trees outside and dancing with people. Orihime had become Halibel's best friend, and they had been giving each other manicures and pedicures while they fawned over Grey's Anatomy and Gossip Girl…and Taylor Swift. Ulquiorra wondered why he fell to Grimmjow's pleas of decent cable TV. But, it made Orihime happy, so there wasn't much regret in that department. But, Noitora had managed to get past the parental block list so he had a shitload of porn on his DVR. No one knew he was capable of doing it, but whatever. He did it, and he was happy.

Szayel was too—he had taken an enjoyment to science channels and yelled at the TV " NO, THAT'S INCORRECT! Your theory is inaccurate, incorrect, illegitimate, irrational!" Silly scientists…theories are for crazy people! Like Szayel. So for him, it was fun and provided interaction with stupid scientists.

Ulquiorra was wary of the TVs. He thought it channeled supernatural beings that communicated with Satan. One time, Orihime turned on their TV in the morning and some possessed little imp dealios with antennae coming out of their heads were frolicking in a flowery field. Oh, these 'teletubbies' gave Ulquiorra nightmares for a week. Lordy! They were the spawn of the devil, with those damn televisions on their chests…more demon channeling…

Ulquiorra shuddered, and walked out into the foyer of Las Noches. And he froze when he saw what—who-- was in there.

Byakuya, Mayuri, Shunsui, Ukitake, Hitsugaya, Kenpachi, Yoruichi, Matsumoto, Kira, Nanao, Yachiru, Rukia and Shuuhei—that is, the Massive Horde-- stood in the massive foyer of Las Noches, staring at the thin, lean Arrancar that had just walked out of a large room. He had bright green eyes, which were currently wide open in surprise, and his hands were jammed in his pockets. Black hair, dark and wispy, framed his face and fell just above his shoulders. He stared at them for the longest time. The Shinigamis stared back.

"No sudden movements, guys!" Ukitake said. "It might get startled and attack."

"Like a Pokémon?"

"Do you think it's a carnivore?" Hitsugaya questioned, throwing a dog biscuit at the Arrancar and whistling. When the dog treat elicited nothing but a slight frown, Hitsugaya took a step back…

"Nah. It doesn't look hostile either. I'd say it's prey." Kenpachi said, chuckling.

"You idiots!" Kira huffed, stomping his foot. "That guy is the guy that killed Ichigo! He's also the guy that—that—" Kira fell to the floor, sobbing.

"That killed Gin!" Matsumoto wailed, throwing her arms in the air dramatically.

The Arrancar stared. And stared. And continued to stare.

"Excuse me?" he demanded incredulously, lowering at them.

"Whoa! It can talk!" Ukitake exclaimed, clapping his hands.

"My name is Ulquiorra Schiffer, former fourth Espada, presently King of Hueco Mundo." Ulquiorra said coldly, sizing them up. Well, he was still the fourth Espada, but whatever. He was also the King, so that wasn't a lie.

The Shinigamis probably wet themselves if they had anything in their bladders. See, before every trip, bathroom breaks are necessary. Ah-- Digressions, digressions. They were face to face with Ulquiorra Schiffer. Brutally strong, intensely cool and distant.

"Oh! Hi. We're from the Soul Society!" Ukitake greeted. He ran up to Ulquiorra and shook Ulquiorra's hand vivaciously. Ulquiorra didn't really shake back, and jammed his hand right back in his pocket. "We're visiting. Is that okay?"

"No. Leave." Ulquiorra said sternly, chilling the air with his smooth voice.

But then, from behind him, he heard a jubilant cry.

"Mayuri!" Szayel cried. He threw his papers aside and sashayed over to the Shinigamis. Mayuri grinned madly and did a complicated handshake (gang sign) with Szayel. Both looked ecstatic.

"Szayel!" Mayuri said, nodding heartily. "What's up?"

"Oh, everything is up!" Szayel replied excitedly. "I've made some findings in organic chemistry that are perfect for fucking up people's minds! Ulquiorra, they're staying." Szayel said, looking over his shoulder at Ulquiorra. His eyes flashed ominously, and he waggled his eyebrows at him. Szayel was Ulquiorra's self-initiated 'advisor', technically. Because he was six years older than Ulquiorra, that already made him wise and stuff. Ulquiorra thought of Orihime, and knew she'd be on Szayel's side.

"…Fine." Ulquiorra said stiffly.

Mayuri and Szayel were already gone, leaving confused Shinigamis and a pissed off, highly annoyed Espada in the foyer. And then, to make things worse, Orihime walked in holding a blooming flowerpot when she laid eyes on their visitors. Her eyes widened and glimmered with excitement.

"Shinigamis! Yoruichi! Matsumoto! Rukia! Nanao! Yachiru! Ahhh I'm so happy!" Orihime ran over to them, hugging everyone and squealing and estrogen-ing with the girls while the men detected a severe drop in testosterone in the air. To make up for this, they began to talk about cars, girls, boats, and football.

Ulquiorra stood there, ready to kill himself (again). Almost.

"They're staying, right?" Orihime asked over the clamor, beaming.

"I suppose so…" Ulquiorra said through clenched teeth.

"Oh! Meet my husband, Ulquiorra!" Orihime blew a kiss at him and winked.

The women squealed, the men stared at Ulquiorra, and they then kind of herded around him, asking questions with large, curious eyes.

"How long have you two been married?" Shunsui asked.

"We're not married. We're just…"

"Bee-eff and gee-eff?" Kenpachi put in, frowning.

Ulquiorra hesitated, cocking his head in thought. Boyfriend and girlfriend was too loose a term…

"It's complicated." Ulquiorra said taciturnly. He averted their gazes and desperately looked for a loophole, an escape route, so he could go ostracize himself in his library or something. Really…why was he doing this? He had become such a pushover since he took the place of Aizen. Seriously, what the hell? Ulquiorra had some serious psychological problems to ponder.

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What'd you think? I'll be happy if you review! Please feed this starved author.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Tourists

Bleach is not mine.

Enjoy!

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So close…so painfully close.

But so far away. Ulquiorra could always shunpo or run, but he didn't want to attract attention by going fast when he only used shunpo for Orihime-in-danger matters. Ah, he couldn't take it anymore. He sped up his walk, which became a fluid run by the time he saw the door to his room. Ulquiorra scurried into his room, slammed the door behind, and sighed deeply. He was safe, and he was ready to immerse himself in a book or something…his eyes strayed to his massive bookshelf. But something caught his attention.

"…laser through this window, to refract against that cactus. Like a ray gun, but fuckin' huge!"

Ulquiorra looked up to see Szayel and Mayuri in his room, nodding energetically while Szayel described a crazy scenario, pointing up and down and everywhere with a crazed look in his eye.

Ulquiorra harrumphed rather loudly, stuffed his hands in his pocket, and sauntered over the scientists, both laughing maniacally and slapping each other on the back heartily.

"You have to leave." Ulquiorra said pointedly. A hint of annoyance was in his voice. Szayel and Mayuri gave him blank, blank stares for a good ten seconds. They shrugged, and returned to their work, completely ignoring the king.

--

--

"Oh! You guys have to meet Halibel!" Orihime turned and beamed at the female Shinigami. Yoruichi, Rangiku, Nanao, and Rukia just stared at her blankly. With much fanfare, Orihime threw the door open to the room Ulquiorra had given to her (mainly for her and Halibel, equipped with a huge big screen TV for their movies) and led them all inside.

Pink was the predominant color, and the room smelled like fresh picked flowers. Lace was everywhere, and a huge round bed had neat, flowery sheets and the carpet was a creamy white, and very soft. The picture would have been perfect had Halibel not been loafing around on the bed reading Shoujo manga, sobbing at the demise of some character. Plus, she was in huge pajama shirt that was a washed out tie dye—not very flattering compared to her usual outfit. No, not very flattering at all.

The reactions of the Female Horde were all varied, to say the least. Rangiku shrieked at the lovely shades of pink and scent of flowers while Yoruichi approved of the big screen TV, which was currently blaring a make out scene from Grey's Anatomy. Nanao found the room distasteful because the only books in the room were in a pink bookshelf packed with Shoujo manga. As for Rukia…Rukia didn't really do anything. She had nothing to say, but hey, there was manga. So she drifted over to the shelf and assessed the pickings. Ahh. So they were Fruits Basket junkies.

"Welcome to the Girls' Room!" Orihime announced, clapping her hands. "Since Las Noches lacks estrogen and feminine touches, Ulquiorra gave a room to Halibel and me that would be furnished in whatever way we wanted!"

"It's beautiful…!" Rangiku marveled, plunking herself down on the plushy pink bed. A look of bliss came over her face and she sighed contentedly. She craned her neck to see what Halibel was reading (DNAngel, apparently). Rangiku gave a gasp.

"That's so sad!" she cried, putting a hand to her bosom dramatically.

"It is," Halibel said with a deep sigh. "I'm Halibel, by the way."

"I'm Rangiku. Oh, wow—I can see you wear double D, despite you oversized crap shirt!" Rangiku pointed out. Wow, another large breasted woman—impressive.

"Actually, I'm an E." Halibel said tentatively. But, they seemed to click right in that awkward, abrupt moment of introduction. "Isn't it impossible to find bras?"

Rangiku waved a hand, scooting closer to Halibel.

"Oh, it's impossible." Rangiku agreed, nodding fervently.

"That's why I don't wear one. My boyfriend prefers me to wear one, though."

"No way!" cried Yoruichi, jumping onto the bed with them. "You guys too? Dude, this is a crowd of huge boobs. Orihime, Rangiku, you, me—it's perfect. Yeah, I don't wear one either…"

Thus, Yoruichi initiated herself into the group without a problem.

Orihime led the remaining women—Rukia and Nanao—to the bathroom, just to show them its feminine and pink goodness. The bathroom was equipped with a huge bathtub and a rather large shelf containing beauty products. Orihime flicked on the light switch and gave them a few seconds to ooh and ahh. But neither of them did. They just stood there like stiff planks of wood..or wallflowers.

"Look at those beautiful roses," Orihime pointed to a white vase full of red and pink roses, sighing and clasping her hands romantically.

"They're…lovely." Nanao said stiffly, adjusting her glasses. Rukia nodded in mute agreement. Orihime skipped over to the bathtub, filled with rose petals and steaming water.

"Ulquiorra is such a wonderful husband-fiancé-boyfriend. He loves me so much!" Orihime batted her eyelashes and blushed at the thought of him. The tour was finished minutes later, and the Big Breasted Swallows (courtesy of Rangiku) were busy talking about pop culture while Orihime tried to entertain Nanao and Rukia. With the Male Horde, things were not going so well.

--

--

Since Ulquiorra fled the scene before the duties as tour guide were entrusted to him and Szayel went off to go be a mad scientist with Mayuri, the excruciatingly bothersome duty as the Male Horde (Ukitake, Shunsui, Hitsugaya, Kenpachi and Yachiru, Byakuya, and Kira) tour guide was left to either Stark, Yami, Barragan, Aaroniero, Grimmjow, Zomari, or Noitora. Well, Aaroniero and Zomari were dead, thank God. Barragan was being a faggot about life and complaining about his heart problems (Szayel could easily fix them, but his excuses to avoid saving Barragan had gone as far as involving unicorns on drugs), which was no surprise. Yami was too stupid, Noitora would rape them all, being the sick bastard he was, and Grimmjow…Grimmjow was in the kitchen emotional-eating Kitty Kibbles and whatnot. So, unanimously, Stark was left with the duties. He was now the official tour guide for the Male Horde, and what a crappy one he was.

"Uhh. Yeah. Welcome to Las Noches." Stark yawned and ran a hand through his hair. "Basically, this place is really big."

Shunsui promptly started to snore. Ukitake had already busted out his lollipop—fourteen inches in diameter—and was licking it coyly while attentively listening to Stark's tour. He took pictures every so often and wore a baseball cap that proclaimed his dedication to the Philadelphia Eagles. Hell, he even wore socks and sandals, completing the clueless tourist look. Then, he spotted a huge bloodstain on the wall and shoved his camera onto Hitsugaya.

"Look! Arrancar design—take a picture of me!"

Stark was about to say something, but he kept his mouth shut and waited patiently while the ridiculous picture was taken.

"This place is so fuckin' huge that if you don't shupo you'll basically kill yourself, because it take twenty minutes to get from my room to the kitchen when walking at a normal pace." Stark explained briefly. "Oh, also there are a bunch of empty hallways because that nutjob Szayel likes to confuse us and moves them around all the time."

"Question!" Ukitake's hand flew into the air.

"Yeah?" Stark rolled his eyes.

"What if we get lost?"Ukitake asked.

"Well, never swim alone." Stark said sarcastically. He snickered at his own joke. "Yeah. To our right, we have more empty hallways. Aren't they simply beautiful and oh so rare around here? And to our left, we have _the exact same thing._"

Toward the back of the group, Byakuya was texting Renji. Kira, next to him, was reading Chicken Soup for the Neurotic Soul and sniffling every so often. In front of them, Hitsugaya was angsting about absolutely nothing, like usual, with a frown that suggested a highly uncomfortable barium enema. Hitsugaya was left the menial and bothersome task of pushing Shunsui around, due to the fact Shunsui had accomplished the task of falling asleep while standing up. Kenpachi was just in front of them, mildly amused by Las Noches, and, the overenthusiastic freak of the world, Ukitake, was leading the semi-loyal followers.

"So, for the next hour, you're going to be staring at _the exact same thing._" Stark said stiffly. "I hope you like white."

"I love white!" Ukitake said, fingering his hair.

Stark snorted but said nothing, leading them down another hallway.

Hitsugaya turned around to face Byakuya, desperate for some conversation. Even though Byakuya was too socially retarded to hold a conversation that last for more than two minutes.

"I see you're texting." Hitsugaya observed candidly.

Byakuya nodded, not even looking up from his iPhone. Hitsugaya raised his eyebrows. Damn, that was a nice one he had. Was it the 3G? It had to be.

"You seem quite savvy in that area." Hitsugaya said.

Another nod.

"Who are you texting?"

"Renji." Byakuya replied tersely.

"Oh. Is that an iPhone?" Hitsugaya asked.

Another nod. His patience was really beginning to falter. Seriously? _Seriously?_ Was this the best this guy, captain of the sixth division, could do?

"3G?"

Guess what? Another nod.

Hitsugaya bit on the inside of his cheek to keep from cussing out Byakuya and/or stepping on his iPhone. It didn't help Hitsugaya lost his two months ago. And right then, Hitsugaya had an epiphany: it was going to be a long 'vacation'.

* * *

Wow, this is a really short chapter. Especially coming from me. But I'll leave it here because I don't want to keep you guys waiting.

Like I said, the sequel is supposed to be crackish-- it's supposed to contrast _A Broken Silence_, haha.

Reviews are greatly appreciated (and strongly recommended)


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

I apologize for the delay. I had CRAZY writers block for this fic. But it's gone now! Please review?

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Ulquiorra strolled into his extensive private library, desperate for a place to escape from the tourists—the Massive Horde. Ulquiorra was sure he'd be left alone here, since nobody was allowed in his special library. Well, Szayel waltzed in there more than he should, but since Szayel was an intellect, Ulquiorra let him. Ulquiorra plucked a philosophy book from the shelf, and sat down on a couch nearby. Two minutes into the thick philosophy book he was reading, Ulquiorra was interrupted by a knock on the doorframe to his private library. Ulquiorra tensed involuntarily, and waved the intruder in, not even bothering to look up from his book.

He heard Stark's rather smooth harrumph.

"I finished with the tour," Stark said blankly. "Now what would you like to me to do?"

Ulquiorra glanced at the clock. It read half past noon.

"Tell Grimmjow to cook something. Lunch." Ulquiorra said dismissively.

"Okay." Stark sighed. "Also, these tourists want to tour your library. Can they?"

Ulquiorra looked over his shoulder, and suddenly felt a little hostile. A few of the tourists were bored, hanging around by Stark, but others deviated from the common act. One of the tourists was snapping pics of the shelves, another was texting, and a guy was prodding a book with his zanpakutou. Ulquiorra was unnerved, however, when one of them grew balls and touched one of the books, suddenly sniffling.

Ulquiorra frowned at Stark, who shrugged and stroked his beard, mildly perturbed. He shrugged at Ulquiorra, in a what-do-you-want-me-to-do sort of way, with his eyebrows raised and eyes wide.

"Alright, people. You're going to have lunch. Follow me." Stark said, beckoning them over.

"Is the food white too?" A rather short, white haired midget said, being a smartass.

"Yup. Clam chowder and rice," Stark snickered and took off, waving the group along with him. He was starting to like being a tour guide. It was fun to mess with the angsty ones. It was fun to mess with all of these crackpot tourists. They were all so strange!

"I'm curious, what is this?" Byakuya pointed to the bowl of vomit—or so it looked like—with great disgust marring his pristine features. The guy who slopped his food in the bowl, a bedheaded, blue haired Arrancar, gave him a look.

"It's chili and spaghetti with cheese and pork, duh." He said, rolling his eyes. "Are you retarded or something?" he continued to move down the long white table, slopping food in their bowls.

Byakuya gaped after him, deeply offended. Never had he been spoken to in that matter in his life. He pushed his plate away from him, disgusted with everything. It was then he realized that the idiot who dared to backtalk him was wearing and pink and white striped apron with a cupcake on the front. Only, it looked more like a butchers apron with blood stains and fat stains on it. Byakuya's stomach knotted itself up over and over again. But, next to him, Kenpachi and Yachiru were chowing down on the chili like starving dogs. Yachiru sprinkled sugar into her bowl.

"This is delicious!" Ukitake exclaimed, shoving a spoonful in his mouth. Grimmjow, hearing the praise, immediately high fived Ukitake, laughing heartily. He then continued to serve everyone, finally taking a seat next to Ukitake. They hit it off—soulmates they were indeed.

Orihime peered into the library, smiling to herself. There, lounging on one of the couches, she saw her boyfriend. Ulquiorra was definitely reading something he was into, since he was lying down, the book propped up on his chest. He was motionless, except for his thumb, which massaged the side of the page he held in an absentminded sort of manner. Orihime crept closer, poised on her tiptoes. She took a minute to listen to his slow, quiet breathing. He could've been asleep. She also took a moment to stare at his black hair, wispy like graceful flicks of a fountain pen, capturing the light. Ulquiorra didn't notice her behind him, so when she playfully tousled his hair, Ulquiorra jumped and snapped his book shut, annoyed.

"Yes?" he prompted, smoothing his hair down petulantly. His green eyes shifted to her, wary, as he sat up.

"Hi!" she waved at him, smiling shyly at him. "Lunch is served. Are you going to eat?"

Ulquiorra's gaze strayed to the bookshelves. He sighed heavily and leaned back, staring at the ceiling with a slight frown. Orihime loved the way his hair framed his face so perfectly, strands brushing each ashen cheek.

"No." he said almost begrudgingly. "I'm not hungry."

Orihime sat next to him, patting his leg affectionately. She smiled at Ulquiorra, and Ulquiorra, who still couldn't handle her sweet smiles for very long, looked away, slightly embarrassed. He found that looking at her too much made him feel warm and uncomfortable. To return her gesture, he stroked her arm rhythmically, peering at her with his large eyes.

"You look nice today," he remarked quietly. "Your hair is different."

"Oh! Thanks!" Orihime blushed slightly. She twirled her red hair, in a long smooth ponytail falling down her back. "Halibel did it for me."

"I like it." Ulquiorra shifted a little, turning to her. He raised a hand and ran his finger along her jaw line, slowly and deliberately, tracing her features. He hadn't noticed how soft her skin was, nor how it seemed to glow in the bright lighting of his library. Her eyes, a warm gray color, glimmered, catching the light. Ulquiorra leaned forward a little, staring into her eyes. He felt his heart beat a little faster, the same feeling he got when he kissed her after everything had fallen into place in Las Noches some weeks ago. It was a good feeling that he remembered so fondly. And then, he planted a kiss on her lips, gently pulling back just as Orihime's hands interwove at the nape of his neck.

"That was short," Orihime remarked teasingly, a mischievous look passing over her face. She leaned closer to him, so he could feel her breath on him.

"So picky," Ulquiorra said dryly, going for another one. Orihime returned the kiss with fervor, pressing her lips to his with such intensity Ulquiorra was almost taken aback—almost. He didn't want to be pushed over by her, no—he wrapped his arms around her and jerked Orihime to him, pressing her small body against his. Orihime responded rather positively, because with a sudden burst of energy, she knocked him over, and they both fell to the floor. Ulquiorra fell flat on his back on the floor, eyes wide, and then she realized she was straddling him. His mouth parted for a moment, and they stood there for a split second, waiting for each other's reactions with bated breath.

"That…hurt." Ulquiorra said in mild awe. For a moment, she saw Ulquiorra's lip curve up, not in a smile—just a slightly amused expression that really pulled her into him. She kissed once, twice, three times as he lay there, pleased.

"Is that better?" Orihime breathed into his ear. She let out a squeal when Ulquiorra flipped her over. She found herself looking up into his eyes as he pinned her to the floor, sitting astride on her body. Ulquiorra was distinctly amused, though he wouldn't admit it. There was a sort of shine in his eyes that was new, curious.

"Yes," Ulquiorra whispered, an amused little look playing on his face. Ulquiorra stood up, offered a hand and pulled up. Orihime wrapped her arms around him.

"I love you, Ulquiorra." Orihime said, flushed. She looked up at him with her big doe eyes, glimmering in the light.

"I love you too." Ulquiorra said, standing up. They stood staring into each other's eyes, lost in love for a few seconds. Their hands stayed woven together.

"Are you sure you're not hungry?" Orihime asked, letting go of him.

"No. I'm not."

"Actually," a cold voice said, "I think you're both hungry, but I'm not going to make any implications." Szayel was leaning against the doorframe, arms folded, glaring at them through narrowed eyes. He shook his head very slowly.

"Hi, Szayel!" Orihime said cheerily, squeezing Ulquiorra. Ulquiorra gave a little gasp and gently pried her off. She was not helping in this situation.

"You two are not even legal adults yet. Just so you know." Szayel said coolly. "Thought I'd remind you before someone gets knocked up."

"Be quiet," Ulquiorra said sharply. He frowned—Szayel himself looked like he had been tossed around. His hair was messy, his lab coat was stained, and his face was a little more pink than usual. "And what happened to you?"

"Oh," Szayel rolled his eyes. "I had to fight Sonny."

"Sonny." Ulquiorra echoed darkly.

"Yes, Sonny, my Venus flytrap." Szayel said with an impatient wave of his hand. "He was sneaking up on me while I was dealing with Flo and Vinny." Ulquiorra raised an eyebrow. "When I turned around, he tried to eat me." Szayel pulled his collar down, revealing red marks on his neck. "Don't worry, I punished him. Instead of feeding him my Fraccion, I fed him flies."

"Isn't that what they're supposed to eat?" Orihime asked pointedly. Her brow was furrowed in confusion. Ulquiorra gave her a jaded, exasperated look, a don't-even-ask look. Mad scientists…Ulquiorra stayed away from Szayel's lab for many reasons, that being one of them.

"Technically, yes." Szayel said briskly. "But mine are no ordinary flytraps."

"Did you have any purpose showing up here?" Ulquiorra prompted coldly, stiffening.

"The foreigners want you." Szayel said, waving Ulquiorra and Orihime over. They took off down the wide, white hallway.

"I don't believe tourists are included in my job description." Ulquiorra said with a sigh. He repressed a grimaced and eased the door to the dining room open, gliding in with his head held high and hakama brushing the ground. He felt everyone looking at him, eyes drilling into him. Primly, Ulquiorra assumed his place at the head of the table and Orihime took the seat of his left. Coolly, Ulquiorra surveyed the foreigners. They were so…bug-like. Large eyes, flushed cheeks, fidgeting. So disgustingly human.

"Who are you?" A little pink haired girl asked. Ulquiorra was stricken by the uncanny resemblance between her and Szayel. Father and daughter, almost. He brushed the disturbing thought aside and focused on the question at hand.

"Ulquiorra Schiffer, former Fourth Espada and present King of Hueco Mundo," he seemed to say it mechanically. "You are not welcome here—"

"But you're going to stay anyway," Szayel jumped in at the right moment, and because he was Ulquiorra's self-appointed right hand man, what he said was almost law. Almost. "So make yourselves at home!"

"Okay, great." Kenpachi grumbled, eyeing Szayel curiously. His eyes flickered to Yachiru and he frowned incredulously. "What sort of shit do you have for entertainment here?"

"Plenty!" Szayel said with a grin. "A pool, media center, gym…video games, books, free Fraccion to practice attacks on, volleyball, tanning, camping, rock climbing, running, fort building, shopping cart races…the usual."

Ulquiorra shot a grossly annoyed glare at Szayel, who was about to say something but backed down immediately.

"Because you are unwanted guests, you are ordered to behave." Ulquiorra strongly emphasized behave—one of these tourists was currently texting on some fancy iPhone. Another one was sticking gum under the table. "Otherwise, you will be forced to leave."

"Question!" Ukitake's hand shot up into the air, nearly decapitating Grimmjow in the process.

"Yes?"

"What about the kitchen?"

"Off limits—" Ulquiorra began sharply.

"Oh, shut up, Ulqui." Szayel said impatiently. "The kitchen? Yes. You're allowed to go there, cook, do whatever it is you people do in kitchens."

"Sweetness." Rangiku said with a grin. "Get it, sweets? Like, sweets and food in a kitchen?"

The table's reaction was an indistinct mixture of groans and snickers, but it was Mayuri and Szayel who began to laugh hysterically, slapping each other on the back and choking on air. Ulquiorra shook his head slowly, deathly. Szayel and Mayuri were going to be the main contributors to the misbehaving factor. Blowing stuff up, raising plants on steroids, cutting stuff open and disemboweling random Arrancar…the migraine had only just begun.

"Que Dios me ayude," Ulquiorra muttered, running a hand through his hair impatiently. He glanced at the Massive Horde disdainfully. They were all freaks.

"Can we leave?" a white haired midget asked irritably.

"Yes." Ulquiorra said tentatively. Most of the foreigners rose from the table, others stood around. Ulquiorra found himself irritated by Orihime's welcoming attitude toward the foreigners—she was handing out maps of Las Noches to each of them, with complementary candies. He rose from his seat and moseyed out of the room as discreetly as possible—Szayel and Mayuri were already plotting on the dining room table.

"Let's make drugs!" Szayel suggested, eyes wide. "Twice as powerful as normal drugs!"

But upon turning into the hallway, he was stopped immediately by two girls and a guy. One girl was a midget, skinny little thing with huge dark eyes. The other was reminiscent of a cheap hooker, with massive boobs and messy hair. As for the man, he looked like he had no testosterone searing in his blood…pale, with sunken eyes and a thin, twig-like frame, armed with no muscle whatsoever.

"Hey, are you the guy that killed Ichigo, Aizen, Gin, and that blind guy?" the slut asked, placing a hand on her hip.

"Of course," Ulquiorra said, mildly amused.

"You're an asshole," the tiny girl said, eyes brimming with tears. "Do you understand love? I was in love with Ichigo, damn it!"

"But you hollows don't have the ability to love, do you?" the big breasted lady asked, shoving Ulquiorra. He looked down at where she had touched him and then looked at her, unfazed.

"Do I look like I care?" Ulquiorra said loftily. "I have better things to do."

"Oh, really?" the blonde twig asked, cutting Ulquiorra off. He was trying to look menacing, but failing at it. Ulquiorra was starting to get miffed. They were wasting his precious time. "You killed Gin. Gin was my captain—" he gave a loud, ill-repressed sniffle and patted the big lady on the back. "And a love interest of Rangiku's here."

"I couldn't care less," Ulquiorra said dismissively. He gracefully sidestepped out of their way and began his slow, dignified promenade down the vast corridor. Behind him, however, he heard loud sniffling and the rustling of clothing. Losers. Ulquiorra suppressed an eye roll and gave a short, impatient sigh. Honestly, being king wasn't as fun as one thought it would be. There were responsibilities, large and small. Large ones included maintaining a government and hierarchy in Las Noches and small was making sure the slaves cleaned the place daily. However, he did get to handle everything from his throne, which was definitely a plus. He didn't even have to leave the throne room. Laziness, one; actually caring, zero.  
Ulquiorra returned to his room and moseyed over to the wide, tall windows that gave him an excellent view of Hueco Mundo's endless sand dunes…some of which were covered with trees, no doubt Orihime's doing. But as he peered upon the sand he realized somebody had sat up a volleyball net. Some of the Massive Horde were playing 'beach' volleyball with other Arrancar, including Orihime. Ulquiorra frowned. Upon closer inspection, he made out a shopping cart being pushed by Grimmjow with Ukitake inside. Clearly, it was not the smartest idea, as the cart toppled over, burying Ukitake in the sand and flinging Grimmjow into the air. The migraine was coming on strong. He massaged his temples and decided to take some painkillers that were lying on his bedside table. And he would soon regret doing that.

* * *

I fail at life. Review?


	4. Chapter 4

* * *

_The migraine was coming on strong. He massaged his temples and decided to take some painkillers that were lying on his bedside table. And he would soon regret doing that._

When Ulquiorra was jarred awake sometime in the wee hours of the, he found himself staring into the face of a ghastly green skull. He gasped and shook Orihime awake. Her hair appeared to be twirling in midair, like snakes! The wall was changing colors, and everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. He felt uncoordinated and sick. Ulquiorra blinked furiously and rubbed his eyes, sitting up. The illusions remained—they were so nightmarishly real.

"What is it, Ulqui?" Orihime asked blearily. She smiled weakly at him.

"A…a green face…" Ulquiorra said vaguely. "Your hair is twirling, the walls are orange—now green…" he trailed off, self conscious of the stupidity he was talking.

"Must've been a nightmare, sweetie." Orihime said with a yawn. She patted his arm lovingly. "Get some sleep. It's three in the morning."

Ulquiorra frowned. Something was not right. His migraine was gone, yes. But since when did painkillers have such adverse, whimsical symptoms? Ulquiorra felt around his bedside table, searching for the tiny bottle of painkillers. As soon as his finger brushed the smooth plastic, he snatched the bottle and turned on his lamp. It made the room's colors much brighter. Looking down at the floor, his stomach lurched. It was spinning around, like cake batter being tossed about by a mixer. Squinting, he read the label on the bottle, and his blood ran cold:

_Warning: these are NOT painkillers…although they do kill pain. The pills within this bottle are maximum strength drugs. If you are reading this, then you are probably wondering why your room looks like a rave party and a gay parade. Also, you are probably high. Have fun! Lots of LOLZ, Szayel and Mayuri._

A hot spurt of anger seared through Ulquiorra at that moment. Damn it, Szayel. Really? Making drugs and switching them with painkillers? Now Ulquiorra was a druggy. Wonderful. With a suppressed growl of fury, Ulquiorra retreated under the covers and tried to sleep.

-

-

"He did not!" Matsumoto gasped.

"He TOTALLY did!" Yoruichi said fervently, eyes wide. "Kisuke totally asked me to have sex with him!"

"No way!"

"Way."

"Ohmigod, what'd you say?" Matsumoto demanded. She took a long swig of sake and made herself comfortable on the big pink bed in the 'Girls' Room'—that is, the room Ulquiorra had given to the women of Las Noches so that the estrogen would be contained in there.

"Well, isn't it obvious?" Yoruichi waggled his eyebrows.

"Finally!" Matsumoto groaned. "It was about time. How was it?"

"Amazing." Yoruichi's eyes glazed over and a smirk appeared on her face as she recalled the memory. Halibel, next to them, cleared her throat pointedly. Matsumoto turned her drunken self to face Halibel.

"So, Tia…" she slurred. "Do you have a boyfriend?"

"That," Halibel said coolly, "is classified information."

"Classified. That means yes." Matsumoto prodded her with the sake bottle, grinning madly. Behind them, the TV was bore a make out scene from Gossip Girl—not that either of them was paying attention to it.

"Not necessarily." Halibel said evasively. "It means that I refuse to disclose the information."

"And if you refuse to disclose the info, then that always means yes." Matsumoto said confidently. "Am I right or am right, Yoruichi?"

"She's damn right, she is." Yoruichi said with a nod. "Tia, 'fess up."

"Come on, girl!" Matsumoto giggled. "We won't tell anyone!"

"You most certainly will."

"Fine, we'll guess." Matsumoto said, pouting. She put a finger to her lip in deep thought. "Is it that mancandy guy? The one with the dark hair?"

"Which one?" Halibel inquired resignedly.

"The one with the curls, the waves." Matsumoto said dramatically. "With those wonderful gray eyes…"Halibel was becoming notably uncomfortable, shifting and brushing imaginary dust off her pajamas.

"It's him, isn't it?" Yoruichi said fiercely. "Good choice, good choice."

Halibel remained silent in agreement.

"He's hot." Matsumoto giggled corruptly.

"Matsumoto, don't kill it." Yoruichi said. "Right then! Back to Gossip Girl."

"He's not my boyfriend." Halibel admitted. Matsumoto and Yoruichi stopped moving. They focused their drunken eyes on Halibel.

"What do you mean he's not your boyfriend?"

"I have feelings for him…" Halibel trailed off. She averted their intense, curious gazes and decided to watch the make out scene on TV (still).

"Oho! Did you hear that, Yoruichi?" Matsumoto squealed. She grabbed Yoruichi by the shoulders and shook her violently. "We're going to have to get them together, eh?"

"Yeah…after Gossip Girl."

-

-

Waking up to explosions was nowhere near pleasant. It was especially unpleasant when a good dream had been ruined by the _bang! _and the fumes that followed. It then occurred to Stark that he shouldn't have been able to smell or hear an explosion since Szayel's lab was several floors below. He frowned and rubbed his eyes, but did not open them. When he did, though, he got quite a fright.

A strange woman was under the sheets with him. She had long, wavy reddish hair and plump lips. She was smiling creepily at Stark.

Stark yelped in horror and recoiled, jumping out of his bed. He was breathing quickly, eyes wide. He pointed a shaky finger at her.

"You…you…! What are you doing in my bed?" Stark demanded, doing a nervous dance on the spot. He was clad in nothing more than his underwear—striped boxers.

"Hey, babe, what's up?" Matsumoto greeted, sitting up. "Call me Cupid. I'm here to deliver a message."

"From who?" Stark demanded.

"That is classified information, my dear." Matsumoto 'Cupid' purred. "Anyway, the message is: Dear Stark, I'm madly in love with you. Meet me at Las Noches' front doors promptly a two o'clock for a nice, long walk." Matsumoto flung the covers off and pranced over to Stark. "Be there, or be square."

And with that, she left his room with a spring in her step. Stark watched her, utterly perplexed. He shook his head and sighed.

"Women!" he muttered with a grimace. It was only ten o'clock. Not time to wake up. Much too early. But minutes after crawling back into his bed, another explosion jarred him out of a pleasant daydream.

"Oh, what now?" he murmured jadedly. Stark stomped to his door and flung it open. The corridor was foggy with acrid smoke, and Stark could hear indistinct voices down the hallway. One of them belonged to a highly pissed off Ulquiorra. His rage was well repressed, but voice had taken on a deathly, ominous vibrato.

"…impudence, such senseless impudence." Ulquiorra seethed, storming down the corridor. Ulquiorra was furious, but he didn't show it. His walk was still slow, like a funeral procession, but Stark noticed a sharp edge in his footsteps.

"Ulquiorra…what happened?" Stark asked wearily.

"Is it not obvious?" Ulquiorra prompted, stopping to make brief eye contact with Stark. Stark was stricken by Ulquiorra's haggard, insomniac appearance. There were dark circles under his eyes, he was frowning, and his eyes were sharp with rage but distracted by something only Ulquiorra would care to mull over.

"Szayel?" Stark guessed blankly.

"Joined at the hip with Mayuri. I fail to understand why they are wreaking havoc on the thirteenth floor when the lab is on the first floor." Ulquiorra said with an exasperated sigh.

"I take it you're looking for them."

"Well reasoned." Ulquiorra harrumphed sarcastically. And with that, he left. Stark figured it would be impossible to sleep any longer, so he dressed and decided to get some breakfast…he was going to. But the smell of the smoke made his stomach flip over, giving him mild queasiness. And he wanted to avoid the kitchen for many reasons. One, the tourists (terrorists) would likely be there. Second, Szayel and Mayuri had probably desecrated it with strange liquids.

Luckily—or unluckily—Grimmjow was traipsing down the hallway, coming from the opposite direction.

"'Sup?" Grimmjow greeted.

"Not much…" Stark said with a shrug. "You?"

"I just buried that annoying ass kid in the sand." Grimmjow snorted.

"Oh…which annoying ass kid?" Stark asked lazily.

"That white haired one, the fucker that looks like a lightsaber was shoved up his ass."

Stark didn't bother stopping the snicker. He smiled a bit. Grimmjow really had a way with words.

"I see…Ulquiorra won't like that."

"Dude, he won't care." Grimmjow sniggered. "He hates the tourists."

"Ahh. That is true," Stark concurred.

Grimmjow smiled for a moment—but it was a mischievous, childish smile. Not a good sign.

"Don't tell me you're going to make Ulquiorra's life a living hell too." Stark said with a deep sigh. Why couldn't everyone is Las Noches be sane for at least one day? Grimmjow had a habit of blowing stuff up and leaving a trail of wreckage wherever he went.

"Nah, I was actually going to go mess with that rich guy, the black haired dude."

"Have fun." Stark said unenthusiastically. He gave a curt nod and continued down the vast corridor. Oh, the boredom. The tedium of Las Noches was so captivating. Too captivating. He wasted a few hours in the library until it was time to meet whoever or whatever would be in the foyer. Stark moseyed over to the main doors, surprised to find Halibel standing there.

"Hey, Tia." He greeted. "Did you send the message?"

"It was exaggerated," she said flatly. "I'm not madly in love you."

And behind one of the pillars nearby, Matsumoto facepalmed.

"Oh…" Stark frowned. "I see…well, you wanted to walk with me?"

"Yes."

In a brief spurt of gentlemanlike behavior, Stark opened the large door and held it over for Halibel, who thanked him briefly. Stark followed her out, and that was it. The door closed slowly behind them. Matsumoto and Yoruichi wasted no time—they ran out the door and strategically followed the two. Of course, Matsumoto had bugged Halibel's jacket, so they could hear the conversation. They were currently discussing politics…how boring.

Orihime was sitting outside, basking in the warm sunlight. Not too far from her, Hitsugaya was screaming profanities at anybody who walked by that didn't help him out of the sand. But she was tuning him out. Orihime was relaxed, lying on a beach towel. She wondered if Ulquiorra liked tan girls…maybe to make up for what he lacked? The thought made her giggle. But then, somebody blocked her sun. She opened her eyes, and was pleased to see Ulquiorra peering down at her. He sat down next to her.

"Hello." He said.

"Hi!" Orihime gushed. She jumped up and hugged him. Ulquiorra, as always, was taken aback, but did return the hug warmly.

"How are you?" he asked politely.

"Fine! Just warming up. And you?" Orihime studied him at arm's length. She shook her head and batted her eyelashes. Ulquiorra looked tired. Probably because he was too high to sleep last night. But he looked quite irked as well.

"…I don't suppose I need to elaborate." He said weakly.

"I'm sorry to hear that!" she said with a nervous giggle. "Join me. It looks like you need a massage."

"No. I have things to do, Orihime." He moved forward to give her a shy kiss on the cheek, but she pulled away, pouting.

"You need a massage!" she said emphatically.

"I'm fine." He said stiffly.

"You need a massage, Ulqui." She said soothingly. She patted a place next to her and said, "Get comfortable. Lie on your stomach."

Ulquiorra disdainfully did as told, resting his head on his arms. The temperature outside was too warm, the sun was too bright, the towel too sandy and scratchy. Orihime began the massage, much to his irritation.

"You're so tense!" Orihime remarked, awed. "Don't worry, by the end of this massage, you'll be a new man."

"As long as it's quick."

"It takes time, Ulqui-chan!" she said in a sing song voice. "You won't even want it to be over."

Orihime's hands pounded the taut muscles on his back until they began to soften. It took a good ten minutes to get them fully relaxed, so she could work her magic and give him the best massage of his life. She rubbed, she pounded softly, applied pressure here and there. She marveled at his strong muscles, she marveled at his chiseled physique. Ulquiorra had hardly moved—he just turned his head to the side, probably to see what was going on around him—a good sign.

"I'm done!" she announced, some five or ten minutes later.

Ulquiorra didn't react. Scowling, Orihime prodded him.

"Was it that good that it killed you? Then you must try my cookies…oh…!"

Upon closer inspection, she realized that Ulquiorra was fast asleep. His eyes were closed, his lips parted. As always, he looked pensive, but certainly less tense than before. And he showed no signs of waking up any time soon. Success! Orihime, one; Ulquiorra, zero.

Unfortunately, that annoying ass kid was ruining the moment by groaning and grunting and yelling at people to help him out of the sand. Orihime stood up, skipped over to Hitsugaya, and exhumed him from the sand.

"Finally!" he hissed. "Are you people deaf?"

"No, your yelling wasn't significant enough." Orihime said with a giggle. "Sorry, Shiro!"

Hitsugaya stomped back into Las Noches, muttering insults. Orihime watched him, mildly perturbed. Shiro had quite the temper! His attitude needed adjustment for sure. Orihime skipped back to her husband-fiancé-boyfriend and settled herself next to him. It was a beautiful day, after all.

-

-

"Oh, my God." Matsumoto groaned loudly. "These people are total and complete nerds!"

"I know, right?" Yoruichi yawned. "Who really cares about alternative methods of obtaining energy? And who cares about law? Geez."

"They need to start talking about things that matter, like Tia's boobs, sex, and alcohol."

"I agree." Yoruichi said with a nod.

"Tia and Stark talked about smart people shit for over an hour." Matsumoto said flatly. "This must be fixed. They got nothing out of it."

-

-

Stark frowned when he saw a most peculiar Shinigami in the foyer. He was wearing a straw hat and tacky, flower fuchsia robe was over his uniform. He walked in a slow, unhurried and relaxed manner. Stark was reminded of the stereotypical hippie from the seventies.

"Hey." He greeted, moseying over to Stark.

"Hi…who are you?"

"I'm Shunsui." He said, tipping his hat.

"Stark."

The two shook hands—Shunsui meant it to be a friendly handshake, but Stark was a bit too stiff to show hospitality.

"So. How's it going, Stark?"

"Ah…it's been tough, man." Stark said, rubbing his neck. Tough was understatement. Being woken up by explosions, a weird woman in his bed, and the general worry that Szayel and Mayuri would do something else that proved their insanity.

"I see. Well, do what I do. Nap."

Slowly, a genuine smile spread over Stark's face. Napping, of course! It was the way to escape from everything. This strange man truly understood Stark! He was weird as hell, yes, but Stark felt an immediate connection.

"Shunsui's your name, you said? How about we get some coffee in the kitchen—"

"No, no—milk, turkey sandwich, and bananas. They help you sleep." Shunsui said, wagging a finger playfully. Stark nodded.

"Of course, of course." Stark said with a sly smile. Jackpot! That was the classic way to fall asleep, the natural way. Szayel's lab was stocked high with sleeping pills and other depressants, but Stark was wary of them. He took one and didn't wake up until three days later.

And to the kitchen they went. The kitchen was untouched, relatively clean—Szayel and Mayuri had not made it the site of a nuclear bombing—yet.

* * *

That's what my boyfriend and I talk about. Science FTW! Teehee.

Hope you liked it!


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Ha, it's been forever since I updated. I'll explain why later.

* * *

The lab was a scary, scary place. Within, substances and chemicals unbeknownst to man were stacked haphazardly on shelves, towering ominously. The tile was clean, the ceilings high and dark—what strange weapons were stashed above in the pitch? A strange, pungent smell constricted one's neck and tickled the back of one's throat like a finger that was trying to coax a retch out of the person unfortunate enough to be in Szayel's lab. As expected, Szayel was immune to this (what really made him gag was the scent of sauerkraut, though nobody knew why), along with Mayuri. They lived for the noxious fumes, they lived for the explosions. In turn, those fumes and explosions lived for them. It was a perfectly reciprocated relationship.

"Isn't she beautiful?" Szayel brandished a sleek, metal weapon, a true masterpiece of science. It gleamed in silver glory under the lights of laboratory. A canister of glowing green fluid was attached to it, and on the end was a hollow structure that was like a small scale version of a satellite dish. And the tip was glowing as a green orb of an unidentified substance formed.

"I have died and risen again, Szayel." Mayuri said solemnly. "May I?"

"Yes, Mayuri." Szayel bestowed his creation upon Mayuri, who cradled the sleek weapon as if it was his own child. "Beautiful."

"Homing laser," Szayel said with a grin. "Would you like to see a demonstration?"

"Of course." Mayuri handed the gun back to Szayel, who grinned madly as he took his weapon back.

"Lumina, Verona, come here for a minute." Szayel called for his fraccion, who appeared a few seconds later, bouncing like balls. They appeared to be elated that he had called them.

"Ladies, when I fire this gun, I want you to run as fast as you can." Szayel instructed. Mayuri nodded in approval and the maniacal grin spreading over Szayel's face. And then, Szayel held down the trigger—the orb at the tip began to glow brighter, shedding a green light on anything nearby—he was pointing the gun at the ceiling to show how the lasers would follow his target. With a flourish, Szayel fired the gun. Lumina and Verona has no time to even react run. They were nipped by bright green lasers as soon as Szayel's finger merely tightened on the trigger.

"See, that's on the lowest setting." Szayel explained. "On the highest setting it is more powerful than a Gran Rey Cero. Perhaps I shall demonstrate on the high setting…" Szayel turned a dial on the side, and the tip began to glow furiously, like the inside of a nuclear reactor. "My target will be that whore, Cirucci. And she's on the seventh floor right now, northern wing."

Szayel pointed to the gun at the wall in front of him and charged it for a few seconds. He let go of the trigger and a massive laser shot out of the tip, cutting through the air and taking out floors upon floors as it shot into the seventh floor to find Cirucci.

"Excellent!" Mayuri said fervently. "A work of art."

"Thank you!" Szayel said. "Of course, it's still being tested. I have yet to perfect it, but perhaps you would like to help."

"It would be an honor."

"Of course it would." Szayel said with a nod. "But that will have to wait until later, because I feel Ulquiorra is coming to yell at us for blowing holes in Las Noches. Hey, want to open up a body?" Szayel asked the question in an utmost casual manner, as if he was asking Mayuri for a pencil to borrow.

"Hell yeah."

And they cackled all the way down to the morgue.

;;;

Byakuya was sitting in the media room, lounging on one of the large couches. The couches, as well as everything else in Las Noches, were obscenely large. These particular couches were plushy, but absorbed like a tempur-pedic mattress. They were long, with an array of pillows on them. Byakuya himself had a nice, silky pillows tucked under his arm. But at the moment, he was texting Renji, as he felt that there was nothing else to do. The massive TV was on, blaring a screaming Billy Mays (RIP) trying to force his crap on the rest of the world. That was only until Ukitake came in, clad in his tourist garb, pockets overflowing with candies and confections.

"Hi, Byakuya." He greeted, sitting next to him.

"Good afternoon."

"I'm going to watch a movie. Want to join me?"

"I have nothing else to do. What's the movie?"

"Have you ever seen The Sound of Music?"

"No. What's it about?" Byakuya inquired, raising an eyebrow slightly. Ukitake winked and scrambled to the DVD player, popping in the disc and plucking the remote out from between the cushions.

"You'll see." Ukitake said with a smile.

Indeed, Byakuya was not exactly amused by the soft, nondescript music that began playing in the opening credits. The movie appeared to be set in Europe, and he had to admit, the scenery was spectacular…green and grassy with large, imposing trees and rolling hills. Byakuya's interest was most definitely piqued.  
;;;

"Alright, Tia. Let's see how this fits." Matsumoto threw a red leather dress with a plunging neckline into Halibel's arms. Highlighter yellow fishnet tights followed, along with shiny black boots and a cheetah print belt. Halibel held the articles of clothing awkwardly. She looked like she was going to object, but closed her mouth and retreated to her bathroom. And five minutes later, Halibel came out.

"I look like a whore." she said. The fishnet was itchy, the boots to tight and too tall to walk in. She teetered around, feeling an uncomfortable draft on her rear end. All that was missing was a pole, maybe a pimp.

"Who said that's a bad thing?" Matsumoto said, raising an eyebrow.

"This is tasteless clothing." Halibel sniffed. She undid the cheetah belt and threw it back at Matsumoto, who put on, beaming.

"Nah, it's just really hot. You're missing bright pink lipstick, purple eye shadow, and greasy hair." Matsumoto said.

Halibel decided to take a different approach—"If I wanted to ruin my reputation, image, and confidence, I'd wear this." She said flatly, peeling the boots off. The fishnet scraped her skin as she pulled it off—Halibel winced. The dress was suffocating her. She couldn't breathe, the leather was smothering her. Halibel looked to Matsumoto for help, unable to speak.

"Get this off of me!" she growled, clawing the dress off.

"Dude, there's a zipper." Yoruichi said blankly. She grabbed it and firmly pulled it down. Halibel took a deep gulp of air.

"Thanks," she said, glancing at Yoruichi.

Matsumoto was busy putting on the fishnet. She snatched the dress from Halibel and wriggled into it. With a wink, she strapped the boots on.

"You're ready to party!" Yoruichi did a hip bump with Matsumoto. "But first, let's go to the media room. I heard some hawt stuff was happening down there. Come with us, Tia!"

And so, Halibel trailed behind them as they headed to the media room. She was very happy to back in uniform. She loved the way her hakama swept the floor, swishing almost silently as she took a step. With great disdain, she stepped into the media room. And there was quite a surprise.

The couch was packed with people. Not one space was unoccupied, and a few stood behind the couch, leaning on it. The room was silent, save for sniffles and tissues being crumpled. Halibel's eyes drifted to the TV screen, where The Sound of Music was playing. The next thing she noticed was Byakuya, knuckles jammed against this mouth, tears in his eyes. Szayel and Mayuri were trying to be as stoic as possible, but the tears streaming down their cheeks was an entirely different story. Grimmjow was squeezing a fistful of tissues, tears dripping into his lap. He made no move to wipe them away. Ukitake and Shunsui were embracing each other, Stark's lips were pursed and he was looking at the ceiling, unshed tears glimmering in his eyes. Kenpachi was almost whimpering, and Yachiru was sitting in his lap, handing him tissues. Ulquiorra was near tears, but it took him every ounce of self control to keep his eyes dry. Every few seconds, his lip twitched.

"This…this is beautiful!" Szayel said breathlessly.

"Shut up and don't ruin the movie," Kenpachi said tremulously.

Matsumoto and Yoruichi stood there, dumbfounded, watching the spectacle. Halibel strode in, and not one of the men's eyes strayed from the big screen TV. It was few minutes before the movie was over, and by the end, every single one of them had succumbed to unabashed, sorrowful tears. Tissues were strewn across the tile, Grimmjow was sobbing into Ulquiorra's shoulder. Ulquiorra was being hugged by an equally hysterical Ukitake. Indeed, Ulquiorra was very uncomfortable.

"Um, what the fuck just happened?" Grimmjow asked no one in particular. He wiped his nose on his sleeve, much to Ulquiorra's chagrin.

"We all let estrogen get to us," Szayel sniffled, quickly smoothing his hair.

"It's okay to be in touch with your female side," Shunsui said calmly. Ukitake agreed with an energetic nod. They gave each other hearty pats on the back and headed out of the room.

"No, it's not." Kenpachi said gruffly. "We, as men, will never speak of this again. Ya dig?"

"Hell to the yes," Grimmjow said, knuckle bumping him.

"DUDE!" Matsumoto shrieked, dragging Halibel behind her. "We saw everything!"

"No, you didn't." Mayuri's left eye twitched convulsively, ominously. He pointed a long, spindly finger at her. Szayel smirked, paused to wipe away a tear, and pulled out a massive syringe from his pocket. His maniacal laugh began slow and jerky, but ended in peals of high pitched laughter. He charged at Matsumoto with alarming agility—Yoruichi was already out of the room, and Matsumoto screamed, turned on her heel, and sprinted out of the room when she saw Szayel coming at her, sprinting lithely.

"Szayel—" Mayuri threw Szayel a small gun, and Szayel caught it deftly, and dashed after Matsumoto.

"You can't run from me!"they heard Szayel's laughter echo eerily in the hallway. Now, Halibel was left to stand awkwardly a few feet from the couch, surrounded by crying men and tissues. With slightly rapid heartbeat, she sank into the couch next to Stark, who had his head in his hands.

"Are you alright?" she asked hesitantly.

"Yeah, yeah." Stark replied quickly.

"I see." It was odd. Tough skinned Shinigami and cutthroat Espada seemed to be no match for the nuances of life and love. Halibel wasn't very emotional—she was cold and distant.

"Let's get some something to drink." She suggested.

"Yeah." Stark agreed, rising from his seat. The two moseyed over to the kitchen in silence. Their footsteps resounded in the vaulted ceilings of Las Noches. But then, Stark tentatively touched Halibel's arm.

"Hey, Tia." He began uncomfortably, fidgeting. Layered well under his concrete gray eyes Halibel noticed a lot of tension.

"Yes?" she prompted, turning to him. Halibel tried to look into his eyes evenly, but found it difficult. His eyes were still red rimmed yet remained incredibly sharp and penetrating.

"That Matsumoto girl said you're in love with me." He said quickly, eagerly. He cleared his throat. "I mean…is that true?" he paused. "I'm just wondering."

"Well, the fact I have feelings for you is." Halibel replied bluntly. It's now or never!

"Oh, really?" Stark smiled and averted his gaze to his left. "Well, me too."

"Are you serious?" Halibel inquired, blinking quickly.

"Yeah." Stark said. His smile widening. He stroked her arm with his thumb a few times and continued walking. Halibel, relatively dumbfounded, followed along and tried to think of a way to reply.

"I-I see." She said, flabbergasted. "So, Stark…do you like pina coladas?"

"Very much so." Stark said with an energetic nod. The pina colada was a drink perfect for the weather—a tangy, sweet drink that brought on immense satisfaction.

"I happen to be quite skilled in making them. Would you like one?" Halibel offered, moseying over to the fridge. From it, she withdrew pineapples, neatly chopped into cubes. Without bothering to measure, Halibel tipped them into a blender nearby. She added a bit of rum and coconut shavings, tossing in crushed ice and blending till smooth. Deftly, Halibel poured them into the curvy pina colada cups—but they needed cherries and umbrellas!

Stark took an experimental sip.

"Tasty. Let's go outside."

Outside, the sun illuminated the sparkling white sand of Las Noches. It seemed all that was missing was a sapphire sea, briny breeze, and a sailboat or two on the horizon. In fact, Halibel desperately wanted to visit a nice Caribbean beach…

But for the moment, she got to watch Grimmjow play extreme volleyball with her fraccion, up against the Shinigami ladies. Grimmjow spiked the volleyball so hard, it exploded. How many they had replaced already she did not want to know.

;;;

"OOH! Mayuri, come look!" Szayel shrieked.

"What did you find, Szayel?"

"Four kidneys in this one!"

"Shit, son!" Mayuri exclaimed, plunging a hand into the liquefied, messy body. He ripped a large kidney out and examined it rivulets of blood traveling down his glove and staining the flimsy gown he wore over his uniform. "Beautiful!"

"Mmhmm!" Szayel agreed. A muffled tearing sound followed as Szayel hacked away the membranes that kept the organs together and inside the body. He also sheared open an artery—for the lulz, of course. It would be useless in a dead person. There was no heartbeat to make it spray, no heartbeat to drench the room in red.

"I'm hungry." Szayel said out of the blue. "Say, Mayuri…how long has this body been dead?"

"Approximately three hours, twenty two minutes, and four seconds." Mayuri said in a scholarly tone. He and Szayel locked gazes and snickered maliciously. The bond between mad scientists was unlike any other—Mayuri could literally see Szayel's thoughts and Szayel could see his.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Mayuri inquired, nudging Szayel slyly. Szayel broke out into a wide smile and produced two hangers, bent into rods, from his pocket.

"Fuck marshmallows, let's roast some kidneys!"

Szayel and Mayuri skipped arm in arm to the chem lab, where the Bunsen burners were lit and the party began.

;;;

Ulquiorra was surprise attacked by Orihime when he stalked into their room late that night. Orihime jumped out of the sheets and nearly gave Ulquiorra a heart attack for two reasons: one, he was not expecting it; two, she wore lacy white underwear and was making no effort to cover herself up.

"Hi, Ulqui!" she said cheerily. "You're back late."

"I had to sort out an issue between Grimmjow and one of the tourists." He said wearily, collapsing on the bed. "The tourist has a broken arm now and Grimmjow is Szayel's new test subject."

"Sounds like Grimmjow has it worse." Orihime said frankly.

"Significantly worse." Ulquiorra answered coldly. He let his eyes fall closed for a moment, only to open them once again when he felt Orihime's fingers brush against his chest, followed by the high pitched sound as she unzipped his jacket. Ulquiorra did not move—he was curious to see what she'd do next. But even then, he felt a most peculiar feeling. His arms were tempted to wrap around Orihime, his hands were twitching with the overpowering need to undo the clasps on her bra. Ulquiorra felt the blood rushing in his head, whooshing at dizzying speed. Oh, how he wanted to throw her back on the mattress and kiss her, touch her. It took every ounce of self control to keep his hands at his side. Orihime's hands were now at his hips, undoing the black sash. He felt her wheedling it off of him. Ulquiorra's breath caught in a mixture of pleasure and surprise. Orihime had slipped the tip of her finger down his underwear. He was beginning to feel deeply out of control. His body was burning up. At once, he grabbed Orihime's hand and shot her the sternest look he could muster in this situation. But Ulquiorra looked to be quite pleasantly surprised.

"What is it, Ulquiorra?" she asked coyly, brushing hair out of her face. "You seemed to be enjoying it."

"I won't allow it." He said, surprised at his own breathlessness. His voice sounded faint, but at a strange pitch that did not suit him. Orihime smiled and sat up, batting her eyelashes. Meanwhile, Ulquiorra tried to keep a stern gaze on her gray eyes, lit with lust for him.

"Won't allow what?" she asked cloyingly, disobeying him as she slipped two more fingers beneath his underwear, tugging at it.

"That." Ulquiorra said semi hysterically. Orihime giggled and pulled his boxers down a few inches, thoroughly enjoying herself. Ulquiorra sat up and made an attempt to push her off of him, but Orihime was too quick in pressing her lips harshly to his, shutting him up, and Ulquiorra did not object. He kissed her harder. Ulquiorra wanted to break away from her, but he couldn't. His jacket was completely off, lying on the floor. Liplocked, and in a fluid move, he undid the clasp on her bra, and that was it.

;;;

"Look at my arm! Look at it!" Hitsugaya shrieked, incensed. He pointed to his right arm, enveloped in a blue cast that went all the way up to his shoulder. Szayel was the one to take the x-rays and determine the break was a complete spiral fracture of the humerus. Szayel found it absolutely hysterical. Hitsugaya, not so much. Especially when Szayel told him he'd be in a cast for eight weeks.

"Nobody gives a fuck." Kenpachi drawled. "You deserved it."

"Excuse me?" Hitsugaya, incensed, almost choked on his spit. He marched up to Kenpachi, who was browsing through a magazine nonchalantly. Yachiru was playing with Barbies on the floor.

"Bite his head off, Barbie! Like a praying mantis after sex!" she chanted, attacking the Ken doll with Barbie. Kenpachi found this behavior completely normal.

"That blue haired asshole was the one that pushed me into the sand—"

"Okay, well, do you want to me to push you out the window? So you can break your leg? Shut the fuck up." Kenpachi grumbled. He tossed the magazine to the side, and, without another word, he rolled over and fell asleep. Hitsugaya, flabbergasted at his disrespectful behavior, stood there, red faced, vein pulsing in temple. He glanced at the clock—eleven thirty, close to midnight. And then Hitsugaya thought, why should I room with Kenpachi when I can go find an empty room in this huge ass palace? Hitsugaya stomped out of the room and slammed the door on his way out.

Las Noches' torches were dimmed, giving off bleak yellow light to reflect off the ice blue tile. It then occurred to Hitsugaya that he had absolutely no idea where he was going. Fuck. This place was so obscenely large. And for what? Only, like, ten people lived in it. Making up his mind, he simply decided to walk until he found an empty room. It was an eerie thing, walking the corridors alone—every rustle of his clothes, every scrape of his shoe against the tile echoed and reverberated in the high ceilings. The unnerving feeling of being watched sent shivers down his spine. In a spurt of curiosity, he looked over his shoulder and nearly had a heart attack. He was staring right into the yellow eye of Szayel Aporro Grantz. Hitsugaya's high pitched scream echoed for a long time. A cheap little smile spread over Szayel's mouth.

"You humans are so funny!" he said with a childish giggle. "And your scent if most enticing."

Hitsugaya was hyperventilating, eyes huge. He was about to wet himself.

"O-Oh my God." He choked out. "First of all, we're not humans—"

"Actually," Szayel adjusted his glasses and smirked in a most maddening, condescending fashion. "You are. I will explain in small words so your simpleton mind can comprehend. Shinigami are more similar to humans than Arrancar. I could go into an explanation of the genetic codes, that is, the nucleotides, ATGC—but I won't." Szayel laughed airily and waved a hand. Hitsugaya wanted to punch him. Szayel was impossibly annoying.

"Why were you following me, you creep?"

Szayel shrugged, smile falling off his face. "You're quite a boring human. I'll go follow another."

With that, he turned on his heel and sashayed down the hallway. Hitsugaya stared after him, feeling an overwhelming urge to curl up on the floor and cry. He couldn't take this anymore. Hitsugaya darted into the closest room, navigating through the darkness and collapsing on the first plushy thing he felt. Bad move. Hitsugaya awoke not long after. Gray light was seeping into the room in the early hours of the morning. He escaped, not even looking back at the life form that was on the bed. He didn't want to know who he slept with last night.

* * *

What was I on when I wrote this?

The reason I haven't updated in ages is because I forgot about this story.

However, I am working on finishing off my three Bleach fics that are in progress. I'm about done with Bleach and it's time for me to invade other fandoms. But, that doesn't mean I'll never write Bleach again.

The last chapter of this story will be chapter 7 or 8. Maybe more if I become really inspired.

Thanks for sticking around, despite my erratic updating schedules. Leave me with your thoughts.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

* * *

The following morning, Ukitake's eyes snapped open promptly at six am when the pleasant alarm of birds singing and grass rustling rang from his cell phone.

"Good morning, world!" he sang out, flinging his arms wide. He smiled jubilantly and kicked the covers off. He decided today was going to be a great day. Ukitake pulled on a fresh pair of new white crew socks, jorts (jean shorts), and Velcro sandals. Next, he tucked a striped polo into his jorts and fastened a fanny pack around his hips. The final touch was a camera and baseball cap. He ready for a new day.

Ukitake left his room with a spring in his step. A few crusty-eyed Arrancar were wandering around, sweeping the halls, polishing the tile. Ukitake decided to help a few out, like the Good Samaritan he was. He felt so refreshed, helping them sweep up the shiny tiles. They glimmered like new under the light. Oh, how righteous Ukitake felt. He patted an Arrancar on the back and told him, "You'll do great things in life. Have a good day!" And Ukitake continued marching merrily down the hallway humming a lively song. And then, he ran into that green-eyed Arrancar, the one that always seemed to be brooding. Ukitake scampered up to him.

"Hello, King Ulquiorra!" he greeted cheerily. "Would you like to take a picture with me?"

"No."

"All right." Ukitake threw an arm over Ulquiorra's neck and aimed the camera at them. Ukitake smiled and pressed the button. One blinding flash later, the image was saved in the camera. Ukitake looked absolutely jubilant, and Ulquiorra looked like a criminal in a mugshot. But Ukitake thought it was a wonderful picture that he'd frame and hang up in his house. Upon was quite photogenic, Ukitake thought. Ukitake decided to head outside, where the Arrancar were already playing a violent game of volleyball. The ball hit a guy so hard he fell on the sand and never got up. Ukitake whipped out his camera and decided to take pictures of the species in action. There was a guy that Ukitake recognized. He was dark haired, almost cringing at the hour (or perhaps the bleak sunlight that rose from the…west?). Stark was his name. And Shunsui was standing next to him, stretching his back.

"Hi, guys!" Ukitake exclaimed, running across the 'court'.

"Watch out!"

The ball slammed the back of Ukitake's head, nearly snapping his neck, and he fell to the ground, unconscious.

Byakuya awoke on the floor the next morning, or perhaps it was the afternoon—the sun was shining brightly when he cracked an eye open. The first thing Byakuya noticed besides the fact his hair was loose and tousled, his scarf was missing, was that he wore an Arrancar's hakama. He was also missing a sandal and had duct tape on his hands. Questions flooded his mind but he was too enervated to make sense of his situation. Along with that, there crudely drawn genitalia was on his arm.

"What the…?" Byakuya murmured, sitting up. He winced at the throbbing headache and the overwhelming queasiness that was taking siege on his stomach. He was in a large, spacious bedroom. Glitter, glass, wrappers, and cannabis were on the floor, along with many red cups. The windows were open. And in the middle of this mess sat an Arrancar. He was very thin, but startlingly lanky, olive skinned with hollow cheeks, greasy black hair framing his face. Upon seeing Byakuya, his lecherous, wide smile grew to take up about half of his narrow face. And he loosely held the pipe of a hookah in his left hand.

"Ahh, you're alive. We were convinced you died last night." he said, silvery smoke curling out of his mouth as he spoke. Noitora paused to absentmindedly brush thick black hair off his shoulders.

"Excuse me—what exactly happened last night?" Byakuya asked tensely. Had there even been a party? Well, evidently—trash was strewn across the room. It was so surreal—Byakuya had no recollection of the night's events.

"Oho, it's no wonder you don't remember. Twenty one shots of vodka, two of tequila, thirteen Jagerbombs, three beers—I counted. You stole most of my shots, by the way, but I was okay with it because you were so shitfaced, Mr. Rich Boy, that you couldn't even talk. _That _shitfaced."

"Captain or Master Kuchiki," Byakuya corrected primly. "And you are?"

"Noitora. And I won't make you call me any fancy names." Noitora said with a wave of his hand. "Anyway, yeah. Good thing you're alive, I was about to call Szayel if you didn't wake up within the hour. I've never seen someone drink so much. You didn't fuck anybody, take your clothes off, or pee everywhere. You did puke out the window a few times, but that's classy and socially acceptable."

Byakuya didn't feel the need to reply, as his regal nature was too obvious for him to acknowledge. And he was fairly certain that if he opened his mouth he'd throw up everywhere, out of actual nausea and serious anxiety. He was afraid to check his phone.

"And you look kind of sick." Noitora laughed and pointed to his right. "Bathroom's over there. Chill out here—you deserve it. Also, great fist pumping last night." Noitora chuckled at the blank look on Byakuya's face as he took another drag off the pipe. Byakuya began a dignified crawl to the bathroom. Noitora breathed out a puff of smoke and smiled placidly. Admittedly, Noitora was still a bit intoxicated and high, but his surrounding were still and inanimate, as they should have been. This Kuchiki guy was kind of interesting. He was rich but had partied like a…dear God, Noitora had never seen anyone besides him, Apache, and Grimmjow party so hard. Noitora was the king of parties. With strobe lights of all kinds and colors, laser lights, and an epic disco ball with a diameter or ten feet. He threw parties at _least _four times a week, much to Ulquiorra's irritations. Some were raves, others were orgies, and a few even had themes. Noitora threw a pirate themed one last week, with plenty of rum. A few Numeros died of alcohol poisoning, but who cares. Noitora chuckled a bit and looked up when Rich Guy walked out of the bathroom, patting his hair down.

"Have you by any chance seen my scarf?" Byakuya asked.

"Well, Grimmjow used it as a makeshift escape ladder last night, so check the window." Noitora watched Byakuya walk across the room with keen interest. He spotted a bit of his scarf pinned between the window and the sill. Byakuya held the scarf tip firmly and forced the window open, yanking his scarf up. To his utmost relief, the scarf was untouched, clean and soft as ever. He draped it around his neck in a sophisticated manner and turned on his heel to face Noitora, who was standing behind him, eying him in a lecherous, curious fashion.

"I like you, Captain Kuchihi. What do you say we go to the kitchen and get some grub?"

"Very well then," Byakuya said begrudgingly. Noitora almost slithered out of the room with Byakuya on his heels. Byakuya walked in a very dignified manner, standing up straight with his head held high, pretending that he wasn't wearing some Arrancar's hakama and missing a shoe. After about twenty minutes of walking, Noitora veered left into the kitchen. Byakuya surveyed his surroundings with mild disinterest. The disrespectful blue haired guy was sprawled out on the countertop, eating an obese cupcake and telling a story to Ukitake and Yoruichi.

Upon laying fierce blue eyes on Byakuya, Grimmjow leapt off the kitchen island and fell to his knees at Byakuya's feet. Byakuya was used to this behavior that he didn't bat an eye. But he was a bit fearful of the reason Grimmjow was kowtowing at his feet.

"This man," Grimmjow rose to full height, and Byakuya was a bit miffed to note that Grimmjow was three or so inches taller than him. It seemed that these Arrancar were quite tall, save for the so-called King of Hueco Mundo, standing at about five and half feet.

"This man wins at life." Grimmjow said dramatically. "He is the classiest drunk I have ever met. He drinks without stopping until his passes out. _This guy _is a winner."

The kitchen burst into a raucous applause that almost split Byakuya's head in half. He lifted a hand, an indication for them to stop clapping, and they ceased at once.

"Well, we know that." Yoruichi said, waving a hand. "I know he has great alcohol tolerance from experience."

"You're talented, Byakuya." Ukitake chuckled and lifted a spoonful of something that appeared to be disgusting (Grimmjow's work, perhaps) to his mouth. Yoruichi was drinking wine, and sadly, it was not even noon. She wore skimpy pajamas had all of her hair tied in a messy topknot at the crown of her head, and she looked quite comfortable and confident sitting with her feet propped up on a rickety table.

"He is. Dude, can I visit your house someday?" Grimmjow asked Byakuya.

"Of course not." Byakuya said, appalled.

"Be that way. I'll just break in, then. But before I do that, let's go outside!"

That afternoon, things were…relatively normal…if anything was ever remotely normal now that the tourists were there. Ulquiorra was little bit off in personality; he was distant and deep in thought, lost in some memory. He sat, back straight as a rod, on his stone throne. He would sigh occasionally, cross his arms once or twice.

"Ulquiorra!" Szayel snapped, waving a hand in front of Ulquiorra's blank face.

"What is it?" Ulquiorra prompted, eyebrows quirking downward.

"You haven't said anything all day."

"And?" He said coldly. Szayel looked mildly perplexed, but then his lips stretched into a knowing smirk. The classic Grantz I-can-see-through-your-soul look crept up his face. Szayel's eyes were stony, only to hide his mischievous intentions. He was planning something, and it wasn't good.

"Daydreaming?"

Ulquiorra threw a piercing look at Szayel. Szayel returned it with a knowing eyebrow waggle.

"Where's Orihime?"

"She…" Ulquiorra nervously trailed off. "She's with the tourists, I believe."

That she was. Orihime was actually in the media center with a few other Arrancar and Espada, building a massive fort composed of sheets and pillows. Kenpachi, Yachiru, Szayel, and Mayuri decided to join her. The scientists were barricading themselves in a fort that resembled a bomb shelter, cackling all the way. Kenpachi interrupted threw right after throwing a sheet over a nice fort-house.

"Okay, so this is freaky as hell—Yachiru and you have the same shade of hair. What the fuck is this, I mean really."

"Well, she's your daughter, isn't she?" Szayel asked primly. Kenpachi hadn't noticed that Szayel had an odd little accent when he spoke. All the others were used to it. Kenpachi concluded that his accent was definitely European.

"Nah, she was on the side of the street." Kenpachi said with a wave of his hand. "She looks more like your kid."

"I had kids in my past life. Every single one of them was blond."

"But your hair is pinker than Pepto-Bismol." Kenpachi said flatly.

"Obviously." Mayuri said, grabbing a fistful of Szayel's hair. "This," he pointed to the hair between his arachnid fingers, "happened after he became an Arrancar. It was originally blond...ish. Like peanut butter."

"Did you two meet when you were humans?" Orihime inquired, popping her head out from under a mass of pillows.

"Of course! Sixteenth century, baby." Szayel and Mayuri fist bumped and chuckled.

"Crazy fucktards. I don't want to know how you met." Kenpachi said dismissively. He crawled into his house-fort, somehow maintaining all of his man pride. Szayel and Mayuri, best friends for life (literally), went back to cackling and kekeke-ing and discussing disturbing and taboo subjects in excited, hushed voices.

"Whose pillows and sheets are these?" Yachiru asked, shoving her face into a mass of sheets. They smelled good.

"They're the ones my husband and I share, but Grimmjow's, Noitora's, Halibel and Stark's, and Szayel's are here too. I took them all from their rooms." Orihime said with a bashful giggle.

Kenpachi scowled. Las Noches was more of an asylum than a palace. The two scientists had lit a pillow on fire and were watching it burn with faces that resembled Noitora's rape face. Orihime wasn't the least bit concerned. She glanced at the orange flames and continued to make a castle for herself out of pink pillows.

Szayel put the fire out with a tiny cero (that blew a hole in the wall—no big deal) and left the room with Mayuri.

"Shinigami are quite fascinating." Szayel mused, adjusting his glasses.

"I could say the same about Arrancar." Mayuri agreed. "By the way, you need to visit me. I have great things in my lab."

"That reminds me— let's go find an Arrancar to vivisect." Szayel said. "And yes, Mayuri, I will. Now I can since Ulquiorra is King. He won't care if I leave."

Mayuri smirked. Szayel mirrored that smirk with an equally malicious one. From that point, the two continued the conversation telepathically. They slipped into Szayel's lab, only to be met with an interesting scene. One of the captains was lying on the floor, semi conscious, with Stark and some other captain bent over him. Halibel was standing nearby as well.

"What happened here?" Szayel purred. He winked at Mayuri. This man would make a wonderful specimen to vivisect. He was emaciated, which lit the spark of curiosity within Szayel. What caused that unnatural thinness?

"He was hit in the head by a volleyball," Halibel informed coolly. Halibel decided to withhold the tidbit of info that she was the one that spiked the ball so violently.

"What volleyball?" Ukitake slurred, drooling slightly. Ah, a slight case of amnesia.

Mayuri and Ukitake exchanged glances. Mayuri held back Ukitake's eyelid while Szayel shone a penlight in his eyes, satisfied with the neat contraction of the pupil. No serious bleeding. Ukitake was functional, moving his hands about as he spoke.

"I don't remember a volleyball. But my head hurts." He chuckled.

"It's a concussion." Szayel said. Mayuri couldn't hide the chagrinned pout that presented itself on his rather disfigured countenance. "You'll be fine, but you'll have to rest for the remainder of the day."

"Drink plenty of water or you'll die. Kidding, kidding." Mayuri added. He and Szayel pulled Ukitake up. Ukitake stood on his own, observing his surroundings with a little smile on his face. What a state of the art laboratory! His camera made its debut once again and he began to snap photos here and there, which tickled Szayel pink. Mayuri was watching Ukitake for any gait abnormalities, which would be the motive to subject Ukitake to head scans and possible surgery. In reality, Mayuri just wanted to cut him up. As did Szayel. But that would have to wait, as something else was occurring on the other side of Last Noches.

* * *

I love Ukitake. I'll miss writing him.

This is the penultimate/shittiest? chapter. I need to knock out this fic and two others before school starts. Damn that's a lot of writing I have to do. Gotta milk all the inspiration I have left.

Last chapter will be longer, more detailed.

Thanks for everything, readers.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: The End

* * *

It was only expected and natural Stark and Shunsui became fast friends. The two viewed life similarly: as one big chance to sleep. Well, not exactly. A few deep discussions had revealed that both were very philosophical and contemplative about the world(s) they lived in. Along with that, Halibel and Nanao had become friends. The two spent most of the day perusing Ulquiorra's extensive library and even partook in a mani-pedi session with the rest of the girls.

It was Ulquiorra that was happiest of all. Mayuri and Szayel had discovered new recesses in Szayel's lab, and stayed there for most of the day…and night. He hadn't seen then in four days, actually, and he was very happy about that. The insanity had died down a bit. And the best part was that they were leaving tomorrow. He almost teared up every time he remembered that bit, but because Ulquiorra was a manly man, he would not cry over such trifles. His esoteric tears were reserved for things that mattered. He was free to sit in his throne room and spend his day thinking. Every so often, he'd go to his library and find a few tourists. But because they weren't causing problems, he let them stay. However, if he had found Grimmjow setting things on fire—no, that'd be Szayel and Mayuri. Grimmjow would be blowing shit up. Yes, well, if Ulquiorra found Grimmjow perpetrating, he'd shoo him away with a fly swatter, book, or whatever he found lying around. There were many places in Las Noches that Grimmjow was not allowed to set foot in, yet he did anyway.

It was fact—Grimmjow had an amazing smile. He could light up a dark room by flashing his pearly whites. They were straight, the perfect size, and his jaws fit together flawlessly. His smile accented his handsome, sharp face and seemed to bring out his cerulean blue eyes. Whether it was a smirk, a calm smile, or a wide grin, it was always beautiful. When paired with his ruddy complexion, one gazed upon the sheer beauty that Grimmjow Jeagerjacques was. And Grimmjow knew he was fine. That was the main reason he wore his jacket open, collar popped for added coolness and an extra confidence boost. Oh, we can't forget his sleeves, rolled up to his elbow. Nowadays, Grimmjow had a penchant for shutter shades. The fact Halloween had passed a long times ago was worrisome, too. He was probably in one of his Phases, which he went through quite often. In that respect, he was like a middle schooler, a whirlwind of trends, memes, and new-fangled vocabulary.

Right now, Grimmjow was playing indoor soccer, which meant soccer in the hallway. Already, walls and doors had been crushed, but that was to be expected. However, it didn't help that Grimmjow was currently drunk. Sadly, it was not yet noon, but that didn't matter. He and Kenpachi had concocted the ultimate alcoholic beverage out of boredom that morning. This beverage, known as "Vaultka", involved Vault, the energy soda, and cheap vodka. That way, once could get a caffeine boost and the benefits of drunkenness. How ingenious!

Meanwhile, Ulquiorra sat on his throne, counting down the hours these annoying tourists would be out of here. His irritation peaked when that skinny white haired guy with large brown eyes popped his head into the room and began to take pictures of the room's rather exaggerated, lofty (literally) architecture. Orihime, sitting next to Ulquiorra, placed a comforting hand on his hard, taut thigh. He met her warm gaze and repressed a shiver. The way she looked at him still managed to put him in a state of ecstasy. Orihime was so beautiful, with those gleaming gray eyes and luscious red waves. There was a light, angelic brush of sprinkles on her cheeks and over his delicate nose. Pink, plump lips so tantalized him, and Ulquiorra didn't realize he was touching her arm and leaning in for a kiss until a flash of a camera brought him back to reality for a split second. Then, passion presided once again and Ulquiorra didn't even bother looking up. He decided to go in for the kiss anyway— as Grimmjow would say, fuck it. Each kiss with Orihime lifted him from the dirty ground of the earth and sent him to a new, perfect world with only the two of them, the heat of her body, the intimacy—

"Oh, my!" he exclaimed with a dreamy sigh. "How lovely! So Hollows do have hearts after all."

"That's not true," Ulquiorra gently broke the kiss and lowered at the tourist, who was completely unaffected and even coming up the stairs to the base of Ulquiorra's throne.

"Mr. Schiffer, would you like to see the picture? It won't end up on Facebook, I promise." he chuckled.

Ulquiorra hadn't heard the term Facebook before, but he obliged the tourist and promised himself to only glance at the picture. But he couldn't just glance at it. The photo this man took was taken at the most precise moment, from the most precise angle. It was a lovely picture.

"It's so pretty!" Orihime gushed, handing the camera back to Ukitake, who beamed at her compliment.

"Thanks. I've been practicing."

"It's paid off very well." Orihime said with a nod. Ulquiorra looped his arm with hers, hoping to convey to her that she needed to stop talking. Right now.

"I'm going to go take some more pics, since we're leaving tomorrow." Ukitake waved and gave a sunny smile. "Bye!"

Once he was out of earshot, Orihime popped the question.

"Why didn't you ask him to delete the picture?" Orihime asked with a curious little smile upon her lips.

"To have captured your sublime beauty in a photograph is a formidable feat," Ulquiorra said impassively. He moved closer to her.

What an odd couple they made. Orihime, the sunny sweetheart, with the stony, rather deadbeat Ulquiorra. They complemented each other like blue and orange and sweet and sour. And best of all, the two balanced each other out.

;;;;;

"You'll visit again, right?" Noitora asked Byakuya solemnly the morning of Byakuya's departure.

"I don't plan to," Byakuya said stiffly.

"Then I'll visit you and bring my bitches with me so we can party it up at your house, since you're the king of alcohol." Noitora winked and turned on his heel, giving Byakuya a curt wave—he was late to his own rave party. But only fashionably late, because Noitora was never just late. He was _fashionably _late, arriving in style with a few cheap Arrancar on his arms, whispering praise into his ear. How wonderful, how wholesome his life was!

Byakuya sniffed in disapproval and patted his smooth black hair down rather self consciously. He did not waste any time, and shunpo'd right out of there, with a fussy Hitsugaya right on his tail.

Two down, eleven more to go, Ulquiorra thought.

Next to leave were Rukia, Nanao, Yoruichi, and Matsumoto. Halibel and Orihime were already coordinating a get together in California with the Shinigami girls. No tears here. Just a few loud goodbyes, and just like that, they were gone. Orihime assumed her place by Ulquiorra at once.

But, on the side of Kenpachi and Grimmjow...

Manliness was quickly crumbling between them, for they were enveloped in a long warm fuzzy that had to be broken up by Ulquiorra. For a moment, they forced him into the hug, too, but Ulquiorra put the problem down by firing a cero at them both. And so, Kenpachi left with cute little Yachiru. As soon as he was gone, Grimmjow began texting him on his brand new iPhone 4g.

Ukitake was very enthusiastic in his goodbyes and thanked Ulquiorra and Orihime for everything. He even made a promise to visit, and Ulquiorra even agreed. Ukitake was a nice man. A little bit high-strung, but well-meaning. And Ulquiorra would now associate him with that picture of him and Orihime. Two other guys— the neurotic one and some badass one with a strange tattoo on his face— left with Ukitake.

Mayuri and Szayel chatted for a while before Mayuri _finally _left while Stark and Shunsui curtly said goodbye to each other.

And five minutes later, they were gone. Las Noches had been silenced.

"Now, my dear." Ulquoirra turned to Orihime. "Where were we?"

* * *

The End. I lost interest in this fast...ah well, it happens.

But thanks for sticking around. Review, please.


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